


if you need a hand to hold, i'll come running

by trustingno1



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bittersweet, Cuddling & Snuggling, Exes, Friendship, M/M, On the Road Again Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustingno1/pseuds/trustingno1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Uh oh," Liam jokes, when Louis checks his phone in the hotel lobby, "Maybe don't start anything <i>major</i> tonight. It's too late."</p><p>"And maybe you could fuck right off," Louis snaps, and Harry sucks in a surprised breath.</p><p>"Jesus," Liam says, head jerking back, "I was <i>kidding</i>, Tommo," and he <i>knows</i> that, he does, but he's just so <i>angry</i> and it isn't <i>fair</i> -</p><p>"Whatever," he mutters, staring down at his phone, but he's <i>prickling</i> with the need to get into it with someone, <i>anyone</i>, and Zayn's fucked off to France or <i>Spain</i> or summat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you need a hand to hold, i'll come running

**Author's Note:**

> I don't pretend to have _any idea_ what's happened, over the last few weeks. But [this post on Tumblr](http://leedshappened.tumblr.com/post/115359623933/insp) prompted a sort of "if Louis' taking care of the fans, who's taking care of fictional _Louis?_ " basis for the fic.

**April 2015**

 

  
  
"Uh oh," Liam jokes, when Louis checks his phone in the hotel lobby, "Maybe don't start anything _major_ tonight. It's too late."  
  
"And maybe you could fuck right off," Louis snaps, jabbing at the lift button with a free finger, and Harry sucks in a surprised breath.  
  
"Jesus," Liam says, head jerking back, "I was _kidding_ , Tommo," and he _knows_ that, he does, but he's just so _angry_ and it isn't _fair_ -  
  
"Whatever," he mutters, staring down at his phone, but he's _prickling_ with the need to get into it with someone, _anyone_ , and Zayn's fucked off to France or _Spain_ or summat.  
  
"Shit, what are we going to do?" Liam breathes, almost rhetorically.  
  
"Do?" Louis repeats, incredulous, but mindful of the fact that they're still in a fucking _lobby_ , "Be _grownups_ and fulfill our fucking _contractual obligations_ ," he hisses.  
  
" _Contractual obligations?_ " Niall repeats, under his breath, looking almost impressed, as they wait for the lift doors to open.  
  
" _Grownups?_ " Harry whispers back, puzzled, and Niall's smile is small and tired but _real_.  
  
"Like, I didn't realize we could _pick and choose_ which parts of this job we did," Louis adds.  
  
"Lou," Liam says.  
  
"We go on without him," Louis says, voice brittle, "Like we always have." He glances at the others. "Unless anyone else is quitting this week?" A pause. "No?" he checks. "Then I'm going-" he hesitates. _For a smoke with Z_ , usually, but - no. "To bed."  
  
He chances a glance over at their security detail, who are doing their best to look unobtrusive. Fucking airtight NDAs.  
  
He's the first one out of the lift, and he can hear a murmured conversation behind him that he has _absolutely no interest_ in being part of, and he shuts his hotel room door behind him without a "good night" or look back.  
  
He's down to his pants, brushing his teeth, when he hears the room door open slowly.  
  
He leans over to spit. "Seriously, fuck _off_ ," he calls, back into the room, and there's a pause.  
  
"It's me," Harry says, softly, hesitantly, and _Christ_.  
  
He pauses to pat his face dry, before stepping back into the bedroom. "I thought you were Payno," he explains, lips twitching, and Harry's trying not to smile, too.  
  
"Fair enough, then," he deadpans. Then, smile fading, "I nicked your spare key from him," he admits.  
  
Louis collapses face-first onto his bed, resting his forehead on his crossed arms, and says, into the mattress, "Like, no offense, but I really don't want to talk about it." He just - doesn't.  
  
"Mmnn," Harry says, agreeably, and Louis lifts his head up a little when he feels Harry climbing onto the bed beside him. Harry traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he smiles at him, all cute-goofy, and pauses. "Shut up. I'm sad, so I'm just going to lie here for a bit," Harry says, and Louis waves at the other side of the bed in silent invitation, dropping his face back down into the bed, and it's just -  
  
it's _everything_ ; he's fucking _pissed_ at Zayn, pissed at how he left, pissed at how he told them, but he _misses_ him - wishes they'd got a proper goodbye, wishes he'd understood just how deeply unhappy Zayn had been, towards the end - and he's lying next to Haz in a room so quiet he could count Harry's breaths (used to fall asleep to that sound, for a few bloody-close-to-perfect months in 2011), and it all - it _all_ happened so _fast_.  
  
He sighs, and he feels Harry roll towards him a bit.  
  
"I'm never going to forgive him," he mutters, childishly, like - fine, he'll talk about it a _little_ \- and he can hear Harry's smile.  
  
"Yeah, you will," he says, softly, "One day."  
  
"Not anytime _soon_ ," Louis vows.  
  
"That's OK," Harry says. "Doesn't have to be."  
  
Louis lifts his head, "And if he really wanted to be a _normal twenty-two year old_ ," his lip curls around the words, "he shouldn't be in the _recording studio_ , or using fucking _private jets_."  
  
He drops his head back down again.  
  
"He just needs to be around his - his friends and family," Harry says, almost apologetically.  
  
" _We're_ his friends and family," Louis protests.  
  
"Not for this, we're not," Harry says, softly, and Louis thinks he muffles the hurt noise he makes pretty well, ta, but Harry hears it all the same. "No, like," Harry shifts closer again and there's a pause, before his hand lands, warm and gentle, between Louis' shoulder blades. "You know how you sometimes just want to talk to your mum or Stan?"  
  
And he gets it, on some level, he _does_ ; sometimes, sometimes you _do_ need to talk to someone outside this cocoon, outside this _life_ , and Harry's thumb's stroking his bare back, just comforting little back-and-forths, and Louis' throat _aches_ and he pushes himself up and reaches, blindly, for Harry, in a way he hasn't for _years_ , pushing him onto his back, tucking his head into Harry's chest, and Harry wraps his left arm around Louis' waist.  
  
Hesitantly, Harry reaches out with his other hand and strokes his fingertips along the arm of Louis' that's across his chest, and Louis presses his face into Harry's shirt and just _breathes_ in the scent of him for a moment.  
  
"We should've kicked him out when we had the chance," Louis mutters, finally, and Harry's breathy laugh tickles his hair.  
  
"Yeah, but," and Harry's voice catches, "think of what we would've _missed_."  
  
And he's not going to cry over _Zayn Malik,_ not tonight, not when the anger's still white-hot and just under his _skin_.  
  
"It'll never be the _same_ ," Louis says, tightly.  
  
"No," Harry says. He hesitates, fingertips coming to rest on the back of Louis' balled fist, still sitting on Harry's chest.  
  
"I swear to god, Harold, if you say that it might be _better_ ," he says, warningly, and he's not in the mood for cliches, but Harry's trembling with laughter beneath him.  
  
"I was _going_ to say," he says, and Louis can _feel_ his voice in his chest, "that, you know. Even if it's never the same. I wouldn't trade these last five years for anything."  
  
Louis pulls his hand out from underneath Harry's and grabs the back of _his_ , squeezing so hard it has to hurt, surely, but Harry just squeezes his fingers back, thumb rubbing Louis' first finger reassuringly, and he turns his face into Harry's neck.  
  
"Stay," he demands, like they're squeezed into one of the bunks in the _X-Factor_ house, all elbows and pre-show jitters, Harry in one of his hoodies, one foot tucked between both of Louis' (and, for just a moment, they _are_ ).  
  
"Yeah, sure," Harry says, gently, too easily.  
  
"No," Louis mumbles, against Harry's throat. " _Stay_ ," he repeats, more urgently, wildly, irrationally, and it's unfair, _so_ unfair, to ask that of Harry now, when everything's still raw, but he _can't_ \- he _won't_ \- handle _Harry_ pissing off to do his own thing, too.  
  
"Course," Harry says, stunned; then, firmly, he promises, "Lou - _always_."

 

 


End file.
